


The Leftovers

by PonyRunRun



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anorexia, Anorexic Lee Taeyong, Eating Disorder, Established Relationship, It's Soft, Lee Taeyong-centric, M/M, Polyamory, everyone's point of view because i Share, i guess, realistic depiction of anorexia, they all love each other okay, they are all here but just mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 20:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14409543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PonyRunRun/pseuds/PonyRunRun
Summary: Taeyong was a good cook. Taeyong could pull a decent dish out of scrap. Taeyong would always make sure that his big family is well fed. Taeyong was always in the kitchen. It was his deadliest cover.No one suspects a boy, and no one suspects the cook.OrFive time the others realize Taeyong is a very sick 22 years old perfectionist who cops with his insecurities by cutting food from his daily diet and one time they reach out for him.





	The Leftovers

**Author's Note:**

> Wow that was one hell of a rollercoaster. It took me forever and i swore a lot but I'm glad I made it. Before y'all read this, please note that I am not making any assumptions on Taeyong's or the others' health. This is purely fiction and what I speak about in this story is coming from my mind and not from any of NCT members' behavior that I would analyze. Also, eating disorder is a touchy subject so read with care, and remember that everyone doesn't experience ED the same way. English is not my native language + un-betaed so far because I am Tired. So if you see anything @ me !

Five times their brows furrow and one time they confront. 

Taeyong was a good cook. Taeyong could pull a decent dish out of scrap. Taeyong would always make sure that his big family is well fed. Taeyong was always in the kitchen. It was his deadliest cover.  
No one suspects a boy, and no one suspects the cook.  
Sicheng was sprawled on the living room's couch, attention drifting from the TV playing on background and Taeyong humming to the tune of the radio that was playing somewhere in the dorm. Their leader sure was not a singer, but he could hum, and Sicheng was too lazy to tease his elder.  
“Hyung !” he called, raising his voice causing him to be even more tired.  
Taeyong's worried face appeared by the kitchen's door in no time.  
“Something wrong?”  
“I'm hungry”  
Taeyong's smile split his face in half as relief brightened his features.  
“Me too, the older conceded, call the others, it's almost ready!”  
Usually, life would fall into this kind of pattern. They would all gather in the living room, set the table for lunch or dinner, turn the TV off and start eating and chatting. And it's probably because they were so engrossed in this pattern that it had taken so long for Sicheng to catch the signs. Weird habits that no one spot because they've always been there, and because they could almost pass as theirs. Or little nothings that root and spread, so slowly that no one really realize they are there until they are too big to take off.  
This time, Sicheng paid attention to the people around him, trying not to look too obnoxious. When all the food was placed in the table, and when the last member that was at the dorm that day settled down, they all bent over for food, chopsticks flying above the dishes and the clatter of glasses filling the room along with their voices. He did not miss the way Johnny made a face at the vegetable before him. Sicheng took some for himself and blinked a few time at the weird taste but said nothing. Taeyong is a good cook, but everyone can miss a step right.  
He looked up at said leader who was caught in a lively argument with Mark about some song's lyrics that Sicheng himself had never heard about. Taeyong's chopstick were dripping with seafood, hung in the air and totally forgotten above his bowl in favor of debating with the others. Had Sicheng been caught in the conversation that he wouldn't have seen it. The way Taeyong takes bits of food and stay with the same amount on his chopsticks for the entirety of the meal. But he's talking with everyone, and bouncing in his sit. No one would find it odd that you don't eat when you're talking.  
All Taeyong was doing during meals was talking. 

*

Taeyong always cooked too much. Yuta had always put that on the fact that with a growing group it was rather difficult to quantify the food you're making, especially when said group is composed of young men exerting themselves all day long, most of them still growing.  
So Yuta never minded.  
Taeyong never ate in their room, or in the bathroom, or in the living room, or really anywhere that was not the kitchen or the dining-room table. Yuta put that on Taeyong's mysophobic personality and the fact that “crumples are gross to walk on” or “if you eat in your bed the ants will find you in your sleep” (which was scary to say but surprisingly worked to stop the younger ones to snack on in their bed).  
This time Taeyong was left alone in the living room to clean the dishes, even though he'd made the food already.  
“Taeyong-ah, let me give you a hand with this.”  
“Ah, Yuta, you scared me, the young man breathed, a little startled. Don't worry I'm fine, why don't you go get a movie, I think the others are waiting in Ten's room.”  
“If the both of us clean it we will watch the movie sooner.”  
As Yuta started to expect, Taeyong didn't protest any further. Else it would have been suspect. And Taeyong was never suspect. Taeyong was average. Taeyong was almost invisible sometimes.  
Yuta put all the side dishes in a tray without any comments and trailed to the kitchen.  
“I made too much once again” the rapper laughed behind him, taking the bowls and emptying the contents in a bigger plastic box to store it.  
At this point, Yuta realized that it probably was on purpose, even if Taeyong was not aware of it. Honestly, the Japanese man had some troubles deciding whether Taeyong's entire behavior was calculated or if some part of it was his subconscious' doing. Anyway, if there already were leftovers, no one would see Taeyong's share left untouched. 

*

If one was to describe Mark, they would probably talk about his habit of hanging around with his notebook. Indeed, the right lyrics could pop anywhere. But recently, Mark started to use his notebook to very different ends.  
“I already brushed my teeth… I went out to eat with a friend… I don't want to eat too late at night or I won't sleep… I'll eat after I worked out or else my stomach will hurt… I'm not hungry after dancing, just thirsty… what the fuck is this ?” Yukhei asked once after finding the notebook. “your plans to start a diet ?” and he laughed.  
Honestly, out of embarrassment, Mark had wanted to shrug it off and laugh too. But that night, he took his courage at arm's length and sat down next to Yukhei.  
“The words are not mine” Mark simply said, waiting to see if the older one was catching up.  
Somehow, the hints were so subtle that Mark sometimes wondered if he wasn't going nuts. But Yukhei's laugh cut short, as if he'd been exposed doing something dubious. He lowered his eyes and considered his hands, as if looking for something to say, like two spies during a war who know they are spies but don't exactly know how far the other would go. It was like suddenly sharing a secret they were ashamed to keep because they could not pretend anymore that they didn't know.  
They did not use names that night. They did not need it. They just spoke in little secretive murmurs, both burdened by the dawning realization that someone really was in danger around them, but also thrilled by the sudden power they both held. They were no longer treading on thin ice, insure and looking for a stronger shore to hold them. With a strengthening certainty that their assumptions were right, and the foolishness of their age, they found themselves smiling softly at the end of the day. It could be okay. They were not alone anymore, and so they would find the most isolated of them all.  
The following week, when Jaemin sent a chat on their group conversation to join him and Doyoung to the nearest BBQ after practice, they followed Taeyong's behavior with sharp eyes. The leader approved the idea when they talked about it in the dancing room and hushed everyone to the restaurant.  
“You're coming hyung ?” Mark asked, looking unbothered and fixing his practice bag.  
“Of course, I'll just take a quick shower at the dorm and then I'll meet you there, kay ?”  
They all pretended it was unfortunate when Taeyong sent them a text half an hour later  
_I'm so pissed !!! traffic is completely stuck !! radio says it's an accident between a car and a bus ? Anyway, I won't be able to make it there but don't worry, i'll watch TV and take a nap so enjoy !  
Ps: don't bring me anything, I'll eat yesterday's leftovers ;) _

*

Johnny had always been taller than most people around him. Being taller than the other members had never been a problem for him. Yet, when Taeyong suggested he help him with his dancing, Johnny couldn't close his eyes on the gap between their body forms. Taeyong was small and slender, moving with agility and grace, in complete control of his movements, showing again and again the same swing of the leg for Johnny who was desperately trying to get the younger one to jump. It took half an hour for the rapper to just shed his big sweater, and Johnny discovered with great disappointment that Taeyong was wearing a black tank top underneath, tucked in the elastic band of his sweatpants. But none of the concealing the younger tried to cast could tear Johnny's eyes from his petite frame, how his arms were thin, how his legs never touched each other, how his ribs poked through his tank top when he arched his back.  
After an hour, Johnny called for a break, and he wondered if Taeyong was as fine as he pretended to be. It was both to be expected and surprising that the rapper was looking quite alright for someone who had danced for an hour ; all sweaty and out of breath, flushed and red, but not on the verge to die either as one would look when running on empty. This realization gnawed at his inside. He'd never wanted to confront the problem, because Taeyong was their leader, and he'd always believed that this uneasy feeling he had was both his doing and Taeyong's hygienic antics.  
He glanced at the smaller man crouching next to his bag to fetch his water bottle, then stand up again and swing on his heels, always graceful. Johnny sat down, his back against the glassed wall, suddenly overwhelmed with a sadness he did not know how to digest.  
“you okay bud' ?” Taeyong asked absent mindedly, drinking while looking at his reflection in front of him.  
Johnny exhaled shortly and caught the younger man's hand in his. Taeyong's face spun abruptly in his direction, doe eyes widen by the surprise, but not freeing his hand yet. If he had asked the question without thinking back then, he was now fully concerned when Johnny closed his eyes and put his forehead against Taeyong's knuckles. He blames tiredness later on for tearing up a bit like this, but for the moment all he could do was breathe noisily, fingers clenched around Taeyong's, gripping his sweatpants and saying sorry.  
_We are trying you know. We are trying._  
He did not muster the strength to spill it out and the shame made him apologize even longer and hold even tighter.

*

Taeyong was beautiful. Taeyong was talented. Taeyong was kind.  
Taeyong had his habits that he did not like to see change. He couldn't rest if his bed was unmade, liked to wash his hand more than what was necessary, cleaned every area with paper towel when going in a room and liked watermelon. Taeyong was like an unshakable rock in their life, their great leader, great visual, great dancer. Ten wouldn't change him for anything. Even if he was messy and bubbly and that this features could bother Taeyong's clean freak persona and that he would get yelled at along with Yuta for leaving his dirty cloth and his dirty plate all around the dorm.  
Taeyong disliked germs and no one was surprised anymore that he would spray some Febreeze on anything or anyone.  
Or that he would brush his teeth seven time a day.  
Or in the middle of the night.  
If this behavior could make the youngers laugh and tease, Ten knew better. He remembered scrolling on his phone during the dreamies' MV filming, one day that he had decided to come cheer them up with their leader. He'd been surprised when Taeyong had left the warehouse looking for some outside tap or even a faucet.  
“What are you doing ?” he'd asked, concerned.  
“I need to brush my teeth !”  
“We haven't even eaten yet. After you'll complain that you can't eat because of the toothbrush taste !”  
“No no, don't worry, I just feel like I have a bad taste in my mouth ? It's bothering me” he laughed while trotting away with his toothbrush in hand like a kid in a field.  
Taeyong already wouldn't talk to him on the morning before brushing his teeth, which delayed his breakfast, and barely anyone would see him eat it, but that was not the matter. People don't always eat breakfast. Ten was just looking for a new obsessive cleaning habit to tease the leader about. He was not expecting to stumble on a darker side of the internet, blogs full of bony bodies, dangerous tips, and everywhere, behind the urge to always go lower, a terrible cry for help. Ten'd had to sit down on some concrete block, feeling ridiculous in his fancy cloth and neat makeup. _Remember to drink a lot of water. Stay hydrated. Don't fast longer than 24h. After a fast, start eating slowly not to bloat too much. Remember that if you don't eat for longer than a day, or if you are fasting on a daily basis, your breathe will become horrible. Your stomach burn the food with acid, so if you don't have any aliment to provide to it, the acidity will rise up. So always brush your teeth thoroughly ! Stay safe and good fast._  
It had not taken long to Ten to make all the pieces click. How Taeyong would always keep the conversation alive, his habit of napping a lot, or going on long walks and dance. His toothbrush he had to change every so often or the light fur growing on his arms, back, legs, invisible from afar but soft under his fingertips at night, or shining under the midday sun.  
Ten loved Taeyong, just like everyone else, maybe a bit more, that's what he liked to say. Yet, at first, he'd been a bit annoyed at the younger man's antics. A bit pissed, because somehow he had not understood the sickness lying underneath. Maybe he'd been a bit jealous that Taeyong was capable of going over such strong instinctive needs as eating, and that as idols, going on diets was almost on their life's schedule. But Taeyong was more adamant, he practiced longer and ate better. Then less. And they all wished they could do the same.  
Yes, the first feeling had been jealousy, and Ten had hated himself for it, but not so much either because no one else knew it. Everyone else was just feeling as well on their little corner. But then he understood. The shaky hands and dancing eyes, like a bird always worried, always alert. The pale complexion that has nothing to do with makeup or suncream. The time spent with a blanket, or near the heater, or using the blow-dryer on his cold skin. That the cleaning freak had been eaten away by an obsessive and terrified young man. Ten realized how Taeyong's perfectionism has in the end played against him, that every task was like a mountain to climb because nothing but the best could be given. That what Taeyong was giving was never enough and the only way to control something in his life had been to restrict his food intake. The only thing where he could say no and win over everything else. This time it would be Ten's turn to say no. And he would not surrender.

*

Taeyong had woken up to Ten and Yuta chatting on his and Ten's bed. He arched an eyebrow, as he was usually up before them, especially Yuta who was impossible to wake up.  
“Taeyong-ah, are you awake ?”  
Taeyong blearily blinked, then stretched his arms over his head and his oversized shirt rose up on his thighs, but still covering his body. Ten put his hand on his stomach, patting and caressing him slowly while shifting on the bed so that Taeyong could see what he and Yuta were scouting over.  
“Taeyong-ah, sit down, sit down. You've been working very hard with Ten for Baby Don't Stop. We prepared a surprise !”  
The rapper sat down and found himself sandwiched between the Thai and the Japanese man, a tray carefully balanced on his blanket-covered legs.  
“Breakfast in bed !”  
“With extra napkins”  
“And paper towel just in case”  
“And a big tray”  
“And no big moves”  
“Nothing dropped on the bed”  
“Just… enjoy okay ?”  
Taeyong raised an eyebrow quizzically but didn't find it in himself to protest because it would hurt Yuta and Ten's feelings. And he didn't want to hurt them. The two men would actually do that to others when they worked really hard for a choreo, especially for Mark who had to put up with three comebacks almost every years.  
“Oh… Okay then. Thank you, really” he managed to stutter, touched nonetheless to be the center of such kind attention.  
Taeyong eyed the tray which contained enough food for the three of them, or more if he listened to his conscience. Three glasses of juice, cutlery, and then bowls with different kind of commodities, from industrial cereals to chocolate bars along with fruits, bread, jam and honey. The rapper's attention zeroed on the bowl of grapes and he took one in his hand, his glass of orange juice in the other and started a conversation out of habit.  
“woke up a long time ago ?” he asked after drinking a bit of his juice, settling it down with the grape he'd taken.  
“Yuta had troubles sleeping and I unexpectedly woke up early this morning so we decided to do something of our free time.” Ten responded, bringing the food topic on.  
“Why couldn't you sleep ?” Taeyong asked worried, his spoonful of cereal hanging in the air before his mouth as his eyebrows shot up, like stopped mid-action.  
“I don't know ? I guess I tried to fall asleep in the middle of a cycle and after that I couldn't find my sleep at all. Fixed myself a snack hoped the digestion would help me doze off but nop.”  
“Hmmmm. Try to take a nap this afternoon after your Japanese class maybe.” Taeyong added, taking a flake of cereal in his bony fingers to drag it between his lips.  
Ten and Yuta both froze as Taeyong took it in his mouth and chewed slowly, not even looking at them, his hands moving with calm, the veins on it protruding and very blue. Yuta paid close attention to the fur Ten had been talking about. After further inspection, he realized he'd already seen it, but never paid any mind to it. Some people are more hairy than others. But Taeyong's limbs were covered in a soft, very soft fur that had very little to do with usual arm or leg hair. _The body grows hair to protect itself from the cold when it doesn't receive enough nutriments to maintain body heat_ Ten had explained. So in the end it was neither gross nor hamster-like cute. It was just dangerous, and couldn't be seen any other ways.  
Yuta absent mindedly racked his fingers along Taeyong's forearm and the younger man jerked backward before taking Yuta's hand in his own in a comforting manner.  
“I'm sorry, he muttered, it surprised me” and the rapper laughed softly, a bit embarrassed.  
They sprawled in bed for an hour after that, pushing the tray aside, all the food touched, a bit ripped and deconstructed in crumbles, or simply moved in a different bowl, but very little gone for good. They didn't say a thing about it, not even Taeyong when Ten started cutting an apple and gave some to Yuta then some to Taeyong, the two boys eating their share then looking expectantly at Taeyong who had managed to hold his third of apple in his hand, seemingly forgetting all about the fruit. But the smooth skin around his eyes was tight and his words were a little strained.  
Taeyong bite in the apple, always finding a speck of dust on it, or a little remaining of skin, picking at some pieces to dispose of them on the side of a bowl. Eventually, he ate the rest of it, which was more than they'd seen him eat in a bit too long.  
Taeyong of course was eating. Because his body had to. But always less, always more controled. No sugar, no fat, no dairies, no bread, then nothing but steamed vegetable. And never a witness. Eating was a shame Taeyong would rather not share. Eating with people was nerve racking. But this morning was for his members. He couldn't let his shame on display. And he was good at hiding his diet. No one suspects him after all. No one suspects the cook.  
Yuta and Ten went straight to the pillows after pushing the tray and declined Taeyong's idea to wrestle on the bed since it was a big one and they hadn't play in a while. Both refused in favor of digesting. Taeyong tried to tickle them, push them, even jump on the bed, they all but caught him and with their arms around his waist and legs, started dozing off again, using him as a pillow. The younger one stayed unmoving, breathing as little as he could, and feigning to cough every time his stomach would growl and protest to such unexpected food intake.  
Later on he asked for Mark to dance with him but he fled with Yukhei to Yukhei's french class. He turned to Johnny but he was just out of the gym and wouldn't exercise again before at least tomorrow. The leader then chased the dreamies in the house to play outside, skipping rope or anything really, but they surprisingly were all busy studying, reading or vliving, sitting neatly in their room.  
“Come on guys ! He started to complain, feeling an ominous feeling bubble up in his chest. The weather is nice ! Let's go to the park.”  
“You can go if you want hyung. But why don't you come say hi to the fans ?”  
Taeyong almost ran to the couch were Jeno, Jaemin and Taeil were talking before the phone, waved his hand with a bright smile and big doe eyes, then left for the kitchen. He cleaned the place, re-organized the refrigerator, watered the only plant that was still alive on the windowsill, then went back to the communal place for something to do.  
“Haechan, do you wanna go out ?”  
“Only if you treat me ice cream hyung.”  
Taeyong faltered but it was almost invisible. He went for his shoes, then straightened up slowly, not turning back to the people who went silent in the living room. The bubbling feeling that rose started to spread in his body. He just felt like everyone was looking at him, waiting for the wrong step he would inevitably take. A wave of heat hit him as he nodded and put his shoes on. He felt terrible during the whole walk. The only positive thing was that Haechan believed him straight away when he pretended he didn't feel well to escape the ice-cream threat.  
He went home a bit nauseous, stressed beyond expectations and so pale-faced that Sicheng immediately sat him down on the couch where they took a nap. I must have caught a cold on the digestion he told the Chinese man, who accepted the explanation with great docility. Taeyong felt better, he was still undercover, the stress was just in his head.  
When Taeyong woke up and went to his room, the place was empty of people. Ten was nowhere in sight, and the rapper's things were all in place. The younger sat on the mattress, wriggled his toes, feeling uncomfortable without being able to tell why. He worked out a bit on the carpet behind his bed so he would be hidden from the people passing by the door, then scrolled on his phone, checking food videos on YouTube. He faintly heard cries and screams through the open window as the boys were fooling around in the garden around the residence.  
“Don't exert yourself too much !” he half-heartedly shouted, not rising from his bed.  
If they tire themselves out they will be too knocked off at dinner to speak.  
They were too knocked off at dinner to speak. Taeyong had dozed off on his bed to lure his hunger and had been woken up by Johnny. Taeyong was still a bit wary of the older one since that night in the dance practice room, but he accepted his hand. Everyone could get tired at some point and over-react or get a bit teary. It happened to Taeyong too. He just didn't remember when was the last time.  
He was greeted in the living room by all the members neatly sited around the table, with their plates before them, food already steaming in their bowl.  
“You started before me ?” Taeyong laughed, mocking vexation while sitting down, as if to bring a laugh out of the others.  
But they all seemed quite serious, probably completely drained from either practice or playing outside. Every attempts the leader made to start a conversation dropped right away, leaving uncomfortable feelings and uncomfortable stares at everything but anyone.  
If they'd been blind for months, Taeyong had stayed delusional till the end. But none of them were stupid. Taeyong felt the heaviness of the night, of the guilt, of the shame, of every negative aspect of his personality, like displayed in broad daylight. Yet no one was really looking at him. But he knew. No he was not stupid. And he couldn't explain himself or else it would have been a total confession. He dared lower his eyes and he felt as if someone had punch him right in the guts. Before him, on his plate, a few plastic bags all neatly closed by a tight knot, and inside, leftovers. His leftovers. The ones he would sometimes take and hide in the drawer under his side of the bed not to let them on display for weeks in the fridge. All his shares were now before him, like a dozen of silent evidences, pointing their greasy fingers at him looking him down. Taeyong felt terrible.  
All the concealment.  
All the pretending.  
All the lies.  
He felt so bad. But everyone was eating, and he was the only one mingling his chopsticks inside the first bag he'd opened with as much pride as he could have mustered, the sound of ruffled plastic deafening in the living-room silent. The murmur of his name hanging in the air resonated like the dull bang of a gun shot.  
He looked up, already vaulting forward to help someone with more broth or more rice. But no one was handing their bowl. He sat back down on his heels, his smile faltering slowly as tears started to prickle his eyes. He sniffled quickly then went straight back to his plastic bag, chopsticks moving the pieces of vegetables around as he poked one in his mouth and chewed. The taste was odd. Eventually it would have happened since he didn't taste the food he was preparing anymore. He choked on the bite as he struggled to keep his sobs inside his little ribcage, bones so frail every reverberation of his breathe was threatening to break him in half, the pressure inside so strong he felt like imploding, his heart beating bruises on his lungs. A hand stroked his back slowly as he coughed, his frame shrinking as he tried to disappear completely under the table. The members had stopped pretending to eat and when Taeyong tried to look at them through his bang, he saw seventeen faces turned toward him, all taken aback. He bursted into tears.  
They let him cry for a while, then they all started rubbing his back, taking him in their arms, cradling him like a baby, some of them taking the food away and bringing water bottles and tissues to dry the fat tears rolling out of their leader eyes.  
After a while, Johnny carried a bawling Taeyong to his room, Taeyong feeling how terrified the half American man was when he weighed him in his arms. Taeyong cried even harder, hiding his face in Johnny's shoulder, his bony hands clawed at his red face, his shinning eyes shut hard as if to ignore all the others tearing as well.  
The taller man dropped him carefully on his bed where Mark, Yukhei and Sicheng were already sitting. They all made him sit as well, Johnny anchoring him behind and Ten keeping Taeyong's hand in his so he couldn't hid any longer. The leader tried to free his hand, to lower his head and even to get up from the bed, so the 6 boys had to catch him and let him tire himself out.  
“We know today has been nerve-wrecking Taeyong-ah” Johnny started softly, hands held before his face like talking to a wounded animal.  
Taeyong _was_ a wounded animal.  
“We are not doing that to hurt you or to pain you hyung” Mark added with a lump in his throat he couldn't quite conceal.  
“Please listen to us hyung, talk to us” Sicheng said, his accent showing as tears were rolling down his round cheeks.  
Only Ten and Yuta remained silent, their eyes on Taeyong but both their feet touching each others like a strengthening bond they need not to collapse. His heart on his throat, Taeyong would stop turning and tearing, his hands catching the bed lamp, the covers, even a pillow, trying to make Johnny and the youngers to let him go. But they held good. Yuta took the items away so Taeyong wouldn't hurt himself and Ten caught his hands once again, placing himself right in front of him, sometimes dodging the rapper's attempts at running away.  
“Let go of me ! Let go ! Johnny ! LET ME GO !”  
“No Tae-ssi” Yuta murmured, still very calm and very collected, waiting for Taeyong to mirror his attitude.  
But Taeyong was too ashamed to let it drop, and now that he'd started he couldn't stop. He didn't want to think about the show he was giving to the people in the room, or the screams all the others could hear from the living room, waiting anxiously, with only the ruckus for indications of what was going on.  
“You, let it go” Johnny whispered in his ear, and he felt the wetness of the taller man tears falling on his own cheeks as he was sprawled on Johnny's thighs, lying completely on the bed, each boy having a hold of his shoulders, legs, arms or hips.  
So Taeyong let everything go. As if a spasm had taken over his body, he constricted and arched, like a gigantic heart that started beating again, blood pumping like drums in his veins, all the anger and the frustration leaping out of every pore of his skin as he finally let himself mourn something he couldn't name yet. And his members were all around him to ground him, forever supportive but always letting him express himself. He'd been the only one to muzzle himself. But it was out.  
He didn't talk about food. Over exercising was a mere symptom, loosing weigh was a mere symptom, not eating was a mere symptom. Somehow they knew it. The disease was in his head, and it was about something else.  
“You know we love you right” Mark said again, his cheeks stained by trails of tears.  
“We are not crying because of you hyung. We are crying for you”  
Taeyong panted heavily, all the blood leaving his head as he started to feel dizzy. Running on empty. He was tired of running on empty.  
“We know you are tired”  
“We are sorry it took us so long.”  
“We are so sorry hyung, we are not letting go”  
“we love you”  
“we love you”  
“we love you.”  
Taeyong stopped moving by the time they finished talking, all the energy drained out of his body. It was difficult to explain what was going through his mind at this exact moment. Feeling the other people's feeling toward him was like being hit by a wave he did not know how to contain. It's not like he'd ever doubted his hyungs' and dongsaengs' affection or love. It was just a different, indescribable sensation, that they _really_ loved him, because they were _worried_.  
They talked to him for a while, one after the other, with measured words, always careful, still walking on thin ice, but knowing that they are all making a chain from hard ground, reaching out to Taeyong's cold little island, far from safe but closer than he'd ever been.  
“We need for you to eat Taeyong-ah...” Ten finally said, not able to keep it in any longer.  
They all froze for a moment, waiting for Taeyong to react. Tears just rolled from his beautiful doe eyes, all red and puffy.  
“Do you think you could tell us why you don't want to eat ?” Mark asked cautiously, scouting over.  
“Is it because of something someone said ?” Yukhei added gripping on Mark's sleeve.  
“Does any one of us ever made you uncomfortable ?” Sicheng struggled to utter as sadness was making his Korean messy.  
Johnny massaged his scalp, looking at him dead in the eyes, not breaking the contact.  
“I do eat. I'm just being careful.”  
They didn't say a word to this, and Taeyong, feeling they wouldn't believe him, started to vomit words to justify himself, panic striking.  
“I'm no that skinny, it's just because I dance a lot. And I do eat, I eat a lot. I probably eat more than I should, you're just not around when I do. And I'm checking what I'm eating because else I would eat bad things and it would be a problem for my health. You can check I'm really not skinny, I'm just small for a man, but it depends on people's body form, I read it on the Internet that people are naturally slim ? And because I do a lot of sport and comebacks are tiring and all I might have lost a kilo or something but I'm not sick in any way. I'm just tired during lunch time and also if I was to pull on weigh I wouldn't be able to dance as long as before ? I would grow tired when I walk up the stairs and I couldn't play without running out of breath and it would just be bad for my health to eat too sugary or too greasy ? Cutting sugars isn't that bad for you, you know.  
Mark listened to his hyung without saying a word, but somehow he could see the pattern. How Taeyong had started speaking out of necessity, saying very common sentences that even he probably didn't believe, then slowly trying to drag them in his twisted point of view. The point of view of someone who is sick and can't see the danger anymore. Or can see it but can't get over it. Taeyong was not stupid.  
“It's because of all the adds on TV about the industrial food, do you only know how many carbs there are in a cereal bar ? And I'm not even mentioning how much of said carbs are sugar it's dangerous.”  
“Hyung.”  
“Just turn the TV on Sicheng.”  
“Hyung”  
Taeyong opened his mouth, closed it. Opened it again and closed it back.  
“I don't want to see a doctor” he finally said.  
“We only want you to get better Taeyong-ah.”  
“Will you let us help you ?”  
“It is not about the food, baby. We want you to believe in yourself.  
“You'll not push with the food ?” the leader asked hesitantly.  
“We will support you in every way.”  
Taeyong lowered his head, nodding slowly, his nails in his trembling mouth, picking at the skin, his eyes still shinning and teary. And they all closed the circle around him, holding him, praising him, reminding him that he is not alone in it and that everyone was waiting for him, at his own pace. They kissed his tears away, his nose, his cheeks, his closed makeupless lids, his forehead and his lips.  
When they all felt the quiet peace settle in, Yukhei insisted on carrying Taeyong. It made Mark laugh, and suddenly everything felt a bit better.  
They went back in the living room, where the rest of the members had gathered their mattress, cover, blankets, pillows, half of them dozing open-mouthed, the rest waiting tiredly, anxiety sharpening the edges of their features. When Yukhei passed the threshold with the rapper in his arms, they all rose on their elbows like a huge nest of mice. They made some space for Taeyong who felt his ears and neck grow hot with the attention. The other dreamies pushed Sicheng, Mark, Yukhei, Johnny, Yuta and Ten to curl around their leader as “you've had him enough for the night, go to the back for a while.”  
Johnny laughed because everything could make him laugh, even his own jokes, and also because he had been very anxious for the past days. They all deflated like balloons and by the end of the hour they were all sleeping in the living room. Taeyong kept looking at the ceiling for a while, aware that recovery was not something he wished, but also that this was the reason why he was sick and that he would somehow learn to accept it. But things took time, and it would hurt, and he would scream and cry, and probably that he would want to give up too. But he had his members to help him stand straight. The shore was far but the tide was the peacefullest it had been in over a year. The human chain sleeping around him was linking him to the ground. He was no longer a leftover.  
And he wouldn't ever be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading me so far, ah, I havent writen in so SO long. It might not be incredible but I'm glad that I managed to wite something and it was my first time writing in english. Please don't hesitate to comment or just leave a kudo, it takes like 0,5 sec but it makes my day.  
> Love, Pony


End file.
